Pickles' Boy
by GhostMocha
Summary: Nathan and Pickles are all nestled up like two peas in a pod when Nathan asks the drummer to sing him a song at 3am. Pickles proceeds to do some creative ad-libbing with the lyrics of "Daddy's Girl." Just a short, sweet little story with a pinch of wuv thrown in. Rated T for a couple F-bombs.


**Pickles' Boy**

* * *

It's just after 3am; Nathan and Pickles had stayed up late to watch a movie together while their bandmates had long since headed off to bed or simply passed out somewhere. In the process of getting comfortable, Pickles was laid back on the couch and Nathan nestled his husky frame between the drummer's slender legs with his back pressed against Pickles, using the red-haired young man as a pillow. In spite of the marked weight difference and the pressure on Pickles' crotch, both of them found this arrangement to be oddly cozy. Once the movie had ended, the two continued to lay together and proceeded to bitch about the film.

"That was a shitty movie. I'm pickin' one next time because you always pick crap." Nathan muttered in his usual gruff tone and took a swig off his beer.

Pickles offered his counter-argument. "Fuck you, dood. At least the chicks in it were hat, so it wasn't a total piece of crep, raight?"

"No, it was _still_ a total piece 'a crap. Those chicks weren't anything we don't see every fuckin' day outside our house or at concerts. At least the groupies show their tits. You just have shitty taste in movies."

Pickles leaned forward to emphasize his point. "Oh okay, Nat'an. Should I remaind ya of the masterpiece you picked two weeks agoo? What was it again? _Space Croco-Chimps VII_? T'at was the definition of a piece 'a crep!"

Nathan was not backing down from this dispute without a fight. "It was better than what we just watched!"

"No it wahsn't! I've seen pornos shot with camcerders by creck addicts in grocery stir bat'rooms that're better'n that!"

They looked at one another, laughed and clinked their beer bottles together. "... it _was_ pretty creppy, t'ough," Pickles conceded. The boys finished their drinks, hurled their empty bottles at the television like they usually did and then just kind of relaxed together. Nathan leaned onto Pickles a little more and rested his head against his bandmate's chest. _This is really fuckin' comfortable. I could get used to this_ , he thought. For being a bony little shit, Pickles made a good pillow.

"So whaddya wanna do now? Another movie? Go ta sleep?" Pickles asked, draping his hands over the back and arm of the couch.

"Not yet, I'm not tired. Ummm, lemme think..." Nathan was quiet for a little while before making a rather unusual request. "I dunno. Would you... uhh... sing me a song?"

This got Pickles off-guard. " _Sing_ to yeh? What d'ya went me ta sing?"

Nathan shrugged. "Surprise me. I like hearin' you sing."

"Oh really? Izzat why you told me my music secks when I did th' Snakes 'N Barrels reunion cancert?" Pickles said with a cocked eyebrow and folded arms.

 _Crap, he remembered that,_ Nathan thought. "I... well... I was drunk and nervous, okay? I thought you were gonna ditch us. I didn't mean it, alright? I take it back. I like your singing."

"Okay, t'en. Umm, what kinda sahng you wanna hear? One of ours?"

Nathan shook his head. "Nah. Maybe something a little... softer."

"Safter? What, y'mean lake a lev sahng?"

"Yeah, sure, somethin' like that. That sounds good."

Pickles thought for a second. A _love song?_ Did he know any love songs? He'd never sang or written any songs about love or emotions or any of that, but then he remembered a song he'd heard on the radio in a gas station about a week before. It was kind of a love song: _Daddy's Girl_ by Peter Cetera. Not metal in any way, shape or form, but soon an idea began to brew in Pickles' head. While forgetting everything else important that week, Pickles had managed to somehow remember those crappy song lyrics. The drummer decided he'd do a little ad-libbing with said lyrics to sing Nathan a custom song.

"Okay, here goes. _When the sen goes dan, and it's gettin' late, you say it's time fer bed. He just teeks his time, actin' like he never heard a word ya said. Little Nat'an, wanna hold ya tight; he don't ever wanna say goodneght. He's a lover, he wanna be Pickles' boy."_

Pickles started to run his fingers through Nathan's long, jet-black locks and rub the man's broad shoulders. Combined with Pickles' whiny, yet somehow soothing voice, Nathan just about melted in his friend's lanky arms. The weedy little drummer continued with his song.

 _"When the mornin' comes an' it's time to go stert anather day, he won't let ya leave and he des his best t' try an' make ya stay. Pretty baby, gonna start to crey; he don't ever wanna say goodbay. He's a lover, he wanna be Pickles' boy..."_ At this point when the drum beat in the song would begin to pick up, Pickles really started to get more into his performance. He began singing louder while slapping his hands against the sides of the couch as if he were playing the drums himself. Swinging his head back and forth to the beat of the song, Pickles was practically whipping his bandmate with his stiff dreadlocks. Meanwhile, Nathan was both annoyed and amused at being jostled around by Pickles flailing behind him.

" _He don't ever wanna be without ya; never have ta worry, he won't doubt ya. T'en he puts his head upon yer shoolders; says he'll marry ya when he gets oooolder."_ Pickles crooned the very end of the verse, holding the note for a few seconds.

Nathan turned around and looked at Pickles with an incredulous face. " _Marry_ you?! What the fuck?!"

Pickles started to whine in frustration. "Dood, that's how the song goes. Now shet up and let me finish!" Nathan grumbled something and turned back around.

" _When the tame has come, and he's old enough to be on his own... he won't understand why yer feelin' sad, 'cause he's leavin' you all alone. Little Nat'an, gonna make ya crey; ya don't ever wanna say goodbay! He's a rock star, he'll always be Pickles' boy."_ Pickles decided to drive the feels home by wrapping his arms around his dark-haired bandmate's chest and holding him close, all while singing the final verse a little softer. _"Little Nat'an, gonna break your hert, gonna miss 'im when yer both apert; he's a rock star, but he'll always be Pickles' boy. He'll always be Pickles' boy..."_ He trailed off, ending the song, and then rested his chin on Nathan's head.

"So, whatcha think?"

Nathan grunted. "Mmmm, ehhhh... for, y'know, not bein' metal, it wasn't bad. I liked it. Is... is that really how the song goes?"

Pickles didn't try too hard to stifle a laugh. "No, ya dummy! I changed some of the words so they'd be about _you._ I wanted to, y'know, make the song more speecial fer ya. I thought it'd be speecial if yer name was in it, an' I didn't know any songs about Nat'ans."

Nathan laughed a little and tilted his head back to look up at Pickles. "So I'm your boy, huh?"

Pickles returned the smile. "Yeh, but don't break my heart or say goodbye, okay? Ya don't gotta do everyt'ing I seng to be my boy." The flame-haired drummer leaned forward and kissed his dear friend. Pickles decided that hearing that douchebag on the radio singing that not-metal song wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Nothing too hardcore - just something cute and fluffy. I've been meaning to write this for a while now, but just kind of got around to doing it now when I was in a writing mood. It's short and stupid, but it was fun to finally put into words. And holy crap, it's tough trying to write how Pickles sounds! Sorry if any of the lyrics are a little unintelligible; most of the "typos" are my attempts at capturing that weird Wisconsin-Canadian accent of his. And as a small aside, I do actually like _Daddy's Girl_ in spite of making fun of it in the story a couple times. :)


End file.
